Wilderness Double Edition #8

by David Robbins

  ~*~

  Miles distant, Selena Leonard was steps away from plunging the knife into the unprotected back of Winona King when the Shoshone woman stopped and began to turn. Not caring to be caught in the act, Selena halted and swung her arm around behind her thigh, hiding the glittering blade.

  “I can do the rest by myself,” Winona declared, placing a large, stiff rabbit, the only animal they had removed so far from her string of snares, on top of a flat boulder. “There is no need for you to go any farther. I will leave this here and hurry back as soon as I have checked the last two.”

  “Nonsense,” Selena said. “I wouldn’t think of letting you do the work yourself.” She snatched up the rabbit by its rear legs and said, “Lead the way. I’ve come this far. I might as well finish with you.”

  “As you wish,” Winona said, smiling. Holding the flintlock in the crook of an elbow, she resumed heading into the gorge, her focus on the rabbit run that led back along its winding course.

  A smile of a different sort twisted Selena’s mouth. She dangled the dead rabbit in her left hand in front of her waist, then brought her right hand next to it so the body of the rabbit screened the knife from Winona. Moving swiftly, she caught up and coiled her right arm for the deadly thrust. As she did, she happened to notice the massive amount of snow balanced on top of the gorge wall and she remembered the avalanche Nate had caused to shake off the Bloods. Selena hesitated, deterred by the thought of the calamity that would occur should Winona scream before expiring. A single loud noise might bring all the snow crashing down.

  Annoyed, Selena shoved the knife back into her pocket. She impatiently cooled her urge to kill as they went up an offshoot of the main gorge to where a snare had been set in a small stand of saplings. It was empty. The last snare, however, positioned at the end of the gorge where it widened out into a nearly frozen spring surrounded by brush and a few trees, contained another strangled rabbit.

  “We have done well,” Winona commented as they retraced their footsteps. “Two in one day is unusual. You have brought good medicine with you.” She chuckled. “Wait until my husband sees. These are the first rabbits we have added to the pot in weeks.”

  “I’m glad I proved lucky for you,” Selena said with undue gaiety. She was growing increasingly eager to end the charade the nearer they drew to the mouth of the gorge. Once in the clear, there would be no reason to restrain herself. Slipping her right hand into her pocket again, she affectionately caressed the bone hilt before pulling the knife and holding it against the rabbit.

  “We should have a feast tonight,” Winona was saying. “I will make a stew of the rabbits, and if the men have shot a deer, we can have roast venison as well.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Selena said, increasing her pace until she was a single stride behind. A tingle of anticipation ran down her spine.

  “Perhaps we can persuade my husband to sing for us,” Winona chatted on. “He has a fine singing voice but he seldom uses it.” She glanced back and smiled at Selena. “His parents made him join the church choir when he was young. Once a week he sang whether he wanted to or not.”

  “I can’t wait to hear him.”

  Winona went around a boulder. Ahead lay the gorge entrance. “He has told me much about churches,” she said, clearly delighted to have someone to talk with. “I had a hard time understanding the idea at first. My people have always believed we can worship the Great Mystery anywhere and anytime. It was strange to hear that white people go to a certain lodge once a week to do so.”

  “There’s a reason for the difference,” Selena commented, her whole body vibrant with blood lust. Always was it the same. She had killed six times in her life, and each time had been an incredible experience she would never forget: the pounding of her heart, the racing of her blood, the enhancement of all her senses, the feeling of being so totally, lusciously alive! Now was no exception. She couldn’t wait to strike, to feel Winona’s warm blood gush out onto her hands.

  “What is it?” Winona had responded, and slowed, for she had reached the open space fronting the gorge.

  “The reason should be obvious, my dear,” Selena said. Since she no longer had cause to hide her true sentiments, her tone was venomous. “Savages like you and the rest of your miserable, foul people know nothing about God, nothing about the right way to worship. All you heathens are alike. You’re no better than a pack of ignorant, smelly animals and you deserve to be wiped out, every last one of you.”

  Winona stopped short and started to turn. “How can you say such a—?”

  Selena Leonard pounced. Eyes agleam, her face a mask of devilish intent, she whipped the knife on high and rammed it into Winona’s chest. The blade pierced the buffalo robe and sliced into soft flesh. Winona grunted, gasped, and tried to back up and bring her rifle to bear. Selena, however, had the advantage of surprise and speed; she batted the barrel aside and stabbed again, aiming at Winona’s throat this time. Selena felt the blade cut into the robe but was uncertain whether she had drawn blood. Winona tripped, stumbled, then fell, and as she did Selena tore the flintlock loose. Stepping to one side, Selena grasped the barrel tight, swung the stock behind her, and when Winona tried to sit up, Selena smashed the stock against Winona’s head. The Shoshone crumpled.

  Selena dropped the rifle and stepped in close to finish the job with the knife. With Winona unconscious, she could carve and cut to her heart’s content. Smiling at her victory, breathing heavily in excitement, she squatted and reached for Winona’s hair so she could lift Winona’s head and slit her victim’s exposed throat. Her fingers were entwining in the long raven tresses when an ominous sound came from the brush to her left.

  Something growled.

  Releasing Winona, Selena stood and pivoted. She spotted a four-legged shape creeping stealthily through the undergrowth toward her, and thinking she was about to be charged by a wild beast, she tossed down the knife and retrieved the rifle. Fortunately, snow hadn’t fouled the barrel. She cocked the piece and waited, unwilling to fire unless she was absolutely certain she could hit the animal, since if she missed it might be on her in a flash.

  Again the creature growled, longer and lower this time.

  There was a peculiar familiarity to the nerve-wracking challenge that Selena found puzzling. She saw the beast slink to one side into deeper brush even closer to where she stood. Suddenly, as she glimpsed its silhouette, recognition made her recoil in fright.

  The creature stalking her was the Kings’ tame wolf!

  Selena remembered the incident that morning, and recalled her fear when the beast had behaved as if it was going to pounce. Wolves terrified her, and rightfully so. When she was growing up in New York, there had still been a few wolves left in the region, and many a time her parents or her grandparents had told her gory tales of supposed wolf attacks during the early days of the state. Consequently, she regarded wolves as fierceness incarnate. They were one of the few creatures she was truly afraid of.

  The wolf stopped approximately twenty feet away, its body poised close to the ground.

  Rare indecision afflicted Selena. Her natural impulse was to shoot, but logic dictated she save the lead ball. She glanced at Winona, who lay as still as death, then suddenly dropped down beside her so she could remove Winona’s ammo pouch and powder horn. No sooner did she touch Winona, though, than the wolf uttered a ferocious snarl and glided forward.

  Selena jerked upright and took swift aim. The wolf halted a few feet shy of the edge of the brush, showing by its caution in not stepping into the open that it had learned through its association with the Kings exactly what a gun could do. “Damn you!” she hissed.

  The wolf stepped behind a small pine.

  “Come out here, you mangy bastard!” Selena shouted, hoping she could provoke it into a reckless act. Crouching, she stared at the pine, expecting the wolf to reappear momentarily, but minutes went by and she saw no trace of the thing. Her apprehension mounted. What if it was circling her? What if it in
tended to get behind her, then charge? She envisioned its iron jaws crunching down on her bones and shivered.

  A twig snapped off to the right. Selena whirled so abruptly she nearly pitched onto her face. Recovering, she scoured the snow-shrouded vegetation but failed to spot movement. “Where the hell are you?” she demanded.

  And was mocked by the silence of the forest.

  Several more tense minutes went by. Selena tired of the wait. She saw no purpose to staying there longer. Winona hadn’t budged, and as near as Selena could tell, wasn’t even breathing. Although Selena preferred to stab Winona a few more times for good measure, she dreaded being set upon by the wolf if she laid another finger on the squaw. So she decided to compromise. She would leave, find Elden, and return in a short while to send Winona King on to meet her ancestors. By then the wolf might be gone. If not, Elden and her would put the thing in its place—permanently.

  Retreating eastward, Selena hiked around the brush in which the wolf had first appeared, and once she was far enough off to feel safe, she headed for the cabin with all possible dispatch. Halfway there she realized she had left the dead rabbits behind, but she wasn’t overly worried about obtaining food now that she knew where to find the snares Winona had set and how to set them herself.

  The heavy snow tired Selena quickly. She slowed to a brisk walk, pausing every so often to catch her breath. Although she was not a good judge of distance, she guessed she was drawing near to the cabin and should spot it at any moment. Instead, as she stepped past a wide pine, she saw the north shore of the lake not fifty feet off, and figured she had overshot the cabin by a few hundred feet.

  Turning to compensate, Selena spied a pair of horses moving along the east shore. She was all set to seek cover when she noticed only one rider: Her brother. With a throaty laugh, Selena ran into the open and waved her arms overhead. Elden veered around the end of the lake and galloped up in a spray of snow, his smirk telling her more than mere words could. “Where’s King?” she asked anyway.

  “Where do you think?” Elden retorted smugly. “Now all we have to do is take care of the bitch.”

  “Already done, love,” Selena informed him.

  “The cabin is ours, then!”

  “Except for the boy and the baby.”

  “They’re next!” Elden declared, and slid down. Selena laughed, he laughed, and they embraced. Cackling merrily, they danced round and round like two children frolicking in the snow. They eventually stopped and stood leaning against one another, chuckling and wheezing.

  “How sweet life can be!” Elden said. He puffed out his chest and smoothed his hair. “You should have seen the look on that stupid trapper’s face when I sent him off a cliff! And the sound he made when he hit! Oh, it was glorious!”

  “I used a knife on the squaw,” Selena informed him. “But we need to go back and make sure she’s dead.”

  “Why?”

  In brief, Selena detailed how she had stabbed Winona and the subsequent intervention of the wolf, concluding with, “If I knew how to skin an animal, I’d make a rug out of the son of a bitch.”

  “We’ll take care of it in a while,” Elden said, stepping to his horse. “For now, I vote we pay the cabin a visit and tend to the King brats.”

  “They should be easy,” Selena predicted, moving to the stallion. It shied as she grabbed the reins, but by speaking softly she was able calm the horse enough to enable her to mount.

  “Everything has worked out just as we had hoped,” Elden said contentedly as they rode to the trail linking the lake to the homestead. “Now we can hide here until all the snow is gone, then head for the Oregon Territory. By next fall we’ll have our own place in the Willamette or Multnomah Valleys.”

  “Where no one knows us,” Selena said with a snicker. “I’ll find a rich old fur trader, someone with more money than brains, and in no time at all we’ll be set up for life.”

  Elden glanced sharply at her. “Must we?”

  “Don’t start. We’ve been over this issue again and again. I’m tired of arguing with you.”

  “Then listen to reason. I don’t like the idea, not one bit. Why tempt a rope? We’ll have a clean slate in Oregon. We can begin new lives, decent, upstanding lives where we won’t have to keep an eye over our shoulder all the time. Maybe we can open a store, or go into some other kind of business.”

  “How, may I ask? Without money we can’t do a damn thing. Your dreams are nice, brother, but that’s all they are. Flights of fancy.”

  “Sometimes I think you won’t quit until you’re three feet under,” Elden said petulantly.

  “Which won’t happen until I’m old and wrinkled,” Selena responded. “I’ve kept us one step ahead of the law for eight years now, haven’t I? You’re just jealous because you can’t stand the thought of other men putting their hands on me.” She shook her head in amusement. “Trust me. Everything will go smoothly as long as you rely on my judgment.” Grinning, she faced westward, and was stunned to behold Zachary King standing in front of the cabin. She raised an arm to wave to him, but he suddenly whirled, ran inside, and slammed the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  Zachary King was mature for his years, a result of having to deal with life’s often grim realities from an early age. Unlike many of his counterparts back in the States, who all too frequently were sheltered by unwise parents from the very experiences that transformed children into mature adults, he had seen rampant violence first-hand. He had witnessed death, many deaths, in fact, and observed tribal warfare. One of the initial and most important lessons he had learned was that men often killed other men. Indians, whites, it made no matter; they would slay their fellows with outright glee if the provocation was sufficient.

  As a result of this fundamental education, Zachary had learned not to blindly trust strangers. His pa had repeatedly told him, “Let others earn your friendship, son, by showing they’re worthy of it.” And Zachary, who hung on his father’s every word, did as he had been instructed.

  Elden and Selena Leonard were examples of this. While Zachary thought that Selena was beautiful, he had not opened up to her because at times she had seemed rather cold, rather distant. Elden had been friendly, but almost a bit too friendly, especially after Elden had referred to him as an “Indian brat,” a slight Zach had not quite forgotten. For these reasons the boy had been unable to fully open up to either of them; neither had yet earned his trust.

  So now, on this sunny winter morning, when Zach stepped outside to look around for Blaze and instead spotted the brother and sister riding toward the cabin, not only was he quite surprised to find them returning without his parents, he was also perplexed to see them together when they had left separately, and on the horses, no less. His first thought was that something had happened to one or both of his folks. But if that was the case, he mused, why were Elden and Selena in such fine spirits? If there had been an accident, the pair should have raced up to the cabin in alarm. Yet there they were, taking their sweet time and chatting back and forth.

  Zachary was about to hail them, to ask about his parents’ well-being, when some of their words reached his ears: “three feet under” and “one step ahead of the law for eight years now, haven’t I?” He saw Selena look his way, saw the shock on her face, and without being consciously aware of why he was doing so other than a feeling that something was terribly wrong, he bolted inside, shut the door, and threw the bar in place.

  Outside hoofs drummed on the earth. A fist pounded on the door, and Elden Leonard called out, “Zach? What’s wrong? Why have you locked us out?”

  “Where are my folks?” Zach demanded suspiciously.

  There was a pause, and muted, hurried whispering. Elden coughed a few times, then replied casually, “Where do you think they are? Your dad shot a deer and they’re butchering it. They sent us back to fetch you and your sister.”

  The explanation seemed logical to Zach. He was aware of how inept the pair were. Neither knew how to track or hunt o
r skin game. Grinning at his foolishness, Zach stepped to the door and gripped the bar. As he did, from the other side of the door came a distinct metallic click, such as would be made when a rifle hammer was being pulled back. He hesitated, wondering why either of them could cock a gun.

  “Did you hear me, boy?” Elden said. “What are you doing in there? Your parents are waiting.”

  Still Zach hesitated, racked by uncertainty. So many little things just didn’t add up right. Yet he had no solid cause to doubt them. He had about decided he was making an idiot of himself when he heard Elden mutter two words.

  “Damn brat!”

  “Quiet!” Selena whispered. “He might hear you.”

  “I don’t care,” Elden snapped. “I’m cold and I’m hungry and I’m tired. If he hasn’t opened this stinking door in thirty seconds, I’m kicking it in.”

  All of Zachary’s suspicions suddenly crystallized into a dreadful certainty. He grabbed his rifle, took a step back, and leveled the barrel at the door. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” he announced. “My pa built this door to keep out bears.”

  “Open it!” Elden commanded.

  “Not until my folks show up,” Zachary said.

  Elden began to angrily respond, but his statement was abruptly smothered off, as if a hand had been clamped over his mouth.

  Pressing an ear to the wood, Zach listened intently. He detected bitter murmuring and suspected the brother and sister were having a quarrel. It ended quickly, at which point Selena voiced his name in a husky manner.

  “I can’t understand why you are behaving this way. Your father and mother will be very disappointed. Please let me in so we can discuss whatever is upsetting you.’

  “Go get my pa or my ma,” Zach said defiantly.

  “Of course, if that’s what you want. But why interrupt them when they’re so busy working on the deer? Doesn’t it make more sense to go see them yourself?” Selena paused, apparently waiting for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she said, “Zachary, I gave you more credit than this. You’re behaving rudely, even childishly. Be a good young man and kindly open the door this instant.”